They're once was a girl who avoided her pain she looked in the mirror with such disdain her heart feels numb and body weak she slowly falling apart and doesn't know where to seek The help That she needs feel so far away Even though it's within her almost clear is day the struggle is real there's no doubt about that how can she relieve the rift between herself and the "her" that she needs back. The substance called crack that promised to be there and take the pain away When all it did was ruin her day, her week,her year, her life as a whole only to take over and control; to strip her of what she should have consoled that little girl screaming inside for help wishing someone would come save her from this hell But no one comes to her side to rescue her to save her from herself she's left in pieces of shame guilt and remorse To put herself back together with no Force To hold her down or have her back.She's on her own to get herself back From the pain and sorrow that holds her down. Where is her Crown? The one that reminds her of her strength, importance and worth on this Earth So she will stand tall and straighten her Crown in order to fight what brings her down She will free herself from the hell within. The fire that's been extinguished will ignite and she will win The battle. The battle between who she was and is..... With a grin.

Those words carry more truth than most people realize. Because being “strong” isn’t just about surviving the hard moments — it’s about carrying the weight of those moments long after they’ve passed. It’s about pretending you’re okay when your soul is aching. It’s smiling when you want to cry, showing up when you want to disappear, and holding everyone else together while you quietly fall apart. Being tired of being strong means you’ve reached that place where your heart feels worn out. It’s when your mind is constantly running, your body feels heavy, and your spirit is begging for a break. It’s when the strength that once helped you survive starts to feel like a cage — something you can’t escape because you’ve built your identity around it. We’re taught from a young age to “be strong,” to keep our emotions in check, to handle everything on our own. But that kind of strength — the kind that never allows rest, tears, or vulnerability — eventually breaks us down. Strength without softness turns into survival, and survival isn’t the same as living. There’s a quiet kind of grief that comes with always being the strong one. It’s the loneliness of realizing that people come to you for support but rarely ask how you’re doing. It’s the exhaustion of feeling like you can’t show weakness because others might see you differently. It’s the pain of knowing you’ve built walls so high that even you can’t climb out. And yet… beneath that exhaustion is truth: You’re not meant to carry it all alone. Being strong doesn’t mean never asking for help. It doesn’t mean smiling through pain or ignoring your needs. Real strength is having the courage to be honest — to admit you’re struggling, to set boundaries, and to give yourself permission to rest. It’s allowing others to see your humanity without shame. If you’re tired of being strong, you’re not broken — you’re human. You’ve done more than enough. You’ve fought hard battles that no one even knows about. But you deserve a life that isn’t defined by constant endurance. You deserve peace, softness, and a safe place to fall.

There comes a moment—quiet, almost unnoticeable at first—when something begins to shift. Not everything. Not all at once. But enough. Enough to recognize that the life being survived is not the life meant to be lived. For individuals navigating addiction and mental health challenges, “taking power back” is not a motivational phrase. It is not a single breakthrough moment. It is a process of reclaiming self—piece by piece. What Addiction and Mental Illness Take Addiction does not only involve substances—it impacts identity. Mental illness does not only affect mood—it distorts thinking, self-worth, and the ability to trust internal judgment. Together, they create a cycle: *Self-doubt *Emotional instability *Shame *Escapism *Regret Research from the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health confirms that substance use disorders frequently co-occur with mental health conditions, reinforcing patterns of emotional dysregulation and negative self-concept (CAMH, 2023). Over time, individuals can lose connection with who they are. Internal narratives become dominated by criticism, and self-trust begins to erode. Trauma—particularly early and repeated trauma—further intensifies this cycle, increasing vulnerability to both addiction and mental health challenges (Public Health Agency of Canada, 2020). What “Taking Power Back” Actually Means Taking power back does not mean controlling everything. It means learning where control truly exists. Within trauma-informed practice, power is defined as the ability to exercise awareness, choice, and intentional response—not perfection or dominance (SAMHSA, 2014). It can look like: *Choosing not to engage with shame-based thinking *Setting boundaries, even when discomfort arises *Acknowledging triggers instead of avoiding them *Taking accountability without becoming consumed by guilt *Showing up consistently, even on difficult days The Mental Health Commission of Canada emphasizes that recovery is nonlinear and rooted in self-determination and hope (MHCC, 2015).

The Invisible Weight Many People Carry You can’t always see trauma. It doesn’t always show up as bruises or broken bones. Sometimes it shows up as anxiety that never seems to quiet down. Sometimes it shows up as addiction. Sometimes it shows up as pushing people away before they can hurt you. Trauma often hides in the thoughts we carry about ourselves: “I’m not good enough.” “I can’t trust anyone.” “Something must be wrong with me.” For many individuals, trauma becomes something they wear every day—shaping how they see the world, how they connect with others, and how they survive. Understanding trauma is not only essential for healing individuals; it is critical for transforming the systems that support them, including mental health services, addiction treatment, and child welfare. Understanding Trauma Trauma occurs when a person experiences events that overwhelm their ability to cope and leave lasting emotional, psychological, or physical effects. The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) defines trauma as experiences that are emotionally harmful or life-threatening and have lasting adverse effects on functioning and well-being (SAMHSA, 2014). Trauma can take many forms, including: *Childhood abuse or neglect *Domestic violence *Exposure to addiction in the home *Systemic discrimination *Chronic instability or loss For many individuals involved in mental health, addiction services, or child welfare systems, trauma is not a single event. It is often complex and cumulative, developing over time through repeated exposure to adversity. Trauma Changes the Brain Trauma does not just affect emotions—it affects biology. When a person experiences danger, the body activates its survival response: fight, flight, or freeze. Stress hormones such as cortisol and adrenaline surge to prepare the body to respond. While this response is adaptive in moments of immediate danger, chronic exposure to trauma can keep the nervous system in a prolonged state of survival.

Through a Child Welfare, Addiction, and Clinical Lens Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is one of the most misunderstood and stigmatized diagnoses in mental health. Not only by society—but within the very systems meant to offer care. For individuals with BPD, especially those with histories in child welfare or addiction services, help-seeking is often met with subtle rejection: long waitlists, referrals that go nowhere, or the unspoken message—we don’t work with that. This is not accidental. It is systemic. BPD as a Trauma Response, Not a Character Defect From a trauma-informed and child welfare perspective, BPD makes sense. Canadian research consistently links BPD to: *Chronic childhood maltreatment *Attachment disruption *Foster care placement *Instability *Emotional invalidation and neglect (Gilbert et al., 2020; Public Health Agency of Canada, 2018) What clinicians sometimes label as manipulation is often: *Fear-based survival behavior *Attachment-seeking shaped by inconsistency *A nervous system trained to expect abandonment In child welfare, we understand that children adapt to unsafe environments to survive. BPD represents those same adaptations—carried into adulthood. Child Welfare: Where the Story Often Begins Many adults diagnosed with BPD have histories that include: *Multiple placements *Separation from primary caregivers *Exposure to domestic violence Early involvement with protection systems (Fallon et al., 2015) Yet child welfare systems are rarely equipped to provide long-term relational repair. Instead, children learn early that: *Care is conditional *Attachment is temporary *Needs can be dangerous When those children become adults, the mental health system often responds with the same instability—repeating the trauma under a clinical name. Addiction and BPD: A Shared Nervous System Story In Canadian addiction services, BPD is frequently misinterpreted as non-compliance or treatment failure. But the overlap is well-documented: